


...and you could have it all

by MyFandomCausesHanaji



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: (not between Roy and Ed!), Developing Relationship, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Post-Canon, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 07:19:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18655627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFandomCausesHanaji/pseuds/MyFandomCausesHanaji
Summary: Ed is back in the military and is struggling with unresolved sexual tension toward Roy, so he decides he just gotta fuck around with others and his crush would be gone. Silly Ed xDBasically, nothing you haven't seen before, but Ima add some angst into the mix xDDISCONTINUED





	...and you could have it all

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [While you flow through my veins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11243310) by [MyFandomCausesHanaji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFandomCausesHanaji/pseuds/MyFandomCausesHanaji). 



> Another one of those post canon getting together fics that are like million here. With the slight "While you flow through my veins" mood. 
> 
> Also, it goes from 1 to 10 very suddenly around the end of the first chapter, I have no idea how this happened.
> 
> Mild warning for sort of a bit dubious consent (not between Roy and Ed) in the bar scene after ~.
> 
> Unbetaed. Feel free to volunteer if you want to ^_^

Being back in the military after almost two years of absence felt strange. It was strange in both a refreshing and an uneasy way. Same people, same office, and yet everything felt different. 

White shirts and blue military jacket, that Ed now had to wear since he didn’t have the privileges that being a prodigy kid-alchemist had given him, felt wrong against the skin of his right arm, that even now, long months after acquiring it back, Ed was still too aware of at times.

Strange was not getting to see his brother every day, strange was actually having his own desk and not having to constantly rush toward something, feeling the flow of time ― too fast, too wasteful ― with every breath he took. Strange ― and bitter ― was not having his alchemy anymore. 

There had been moments, after the first rapture of seeing his brother back in his body slowly gave place to the feeling of serene stability, when he had been acutely aware of this gaping hole inside of him and he had thought he would drown in the silence accompanying it. Alchemy had been a part of him for as long as he could remember, and it took time and the many sunny smiles Al had given him to come to terms with never feeling it surge through his body again.

It was strange having this void inside him, that now he could breathe into with his chest not feeling tight under constant stress and pressure of time and responsibilities. 

It felt almost like starting a new life, and in a way it was, and Ed was only too happy to leave the first sixteen years of the previous one behind; the memory of them was already slowly fading to leave him just faint reminders of the events that had happened, without actively pulling him into the midst of it all.

He remembered how he could finally smile with ease when Al had left the hospital on his own two feet. He remembered how brighter and warmer the world started to feel for him when they both came back to Resembool. He remembered how many new small things and tiny joys he had been able to finally see around him that year that he had spent with his brother watching to his full recovery. 

As if the only goal that he’d had for years, his only purpose in life had been shoring his vision up until then, had been restricting his very ability to enjoy life fully. And now, when he could finally see around and breathe freely, everything seemed just a bit more beautiful. 

And even Mustang was not irritating him half as much as before.

The decision to return under the man’s command came to him much easier than Ed would have expected it. He had despised the military when he had been a State’s Alchemist, and this hardly changed since then. But he respected Mustang’s goal and the man himself, and now, when Ed suddenly had all the time in the world and could do whatever he wanted, being by Mustang’s side and supporting him somehow ended up on the top of his list of priorities. 

Granted, this list now was practically empty. 

Al was in Rush Valley safe and healthy with Winry to keep an eye on him, like Ed glad to take a breather for a while and not spend most of his time on the trains. The quite awkward situation around Winry clearly expecting Ed to commit to a relationship with her had also been peacefully resolved after their first failed attempt on a date when Winry tried to initiate a kiss and something finally clicked in Ed’s head after years of self doubt, and he admitted to her ― and to himself ― that he wasn’t interested in girls. 

Everything in his life was surprisingly fine and his future clear of any particular plans and fears, and perhaps a couple of years later he wouldn’t mind to find another, more alchemy related job ― perhaps in a lab or university where he could share his knowledge ― but right now he felt the most at ease in the familiar surroundings of Mustang’s office with people he grew to consider his friends. 

He laughed as a way of greeting when he saw Mustang on his first day on the new job ― he heard the rumors, but he hadn’t seen the man for two years, and he just couldn't help himself at the view of Mustang’s new ridiculous mustache. He didn’t expect it to be that funny, but that day each time the man got into his field of vision, Ed would bend in half, choking on the laughs. The next day the mustache was gone, Mustang was avoiding Ed’s gaze, the team was barely keeping back their giggling, and during lunch Hawkeye paid for Ed’s meal.

Just a few days in at this new job, Ed noticed that Mustang was almost pleasant to be around, and since it was not something Ed would think lightly, he set his mind to find out whether the changes were in the man himself or in Ed’s new perception of the world.

Mustang really did seem more at ease compare to how Ed was used to see him. Perhaps it was his new position as a Brigadier General, which had brought him closer to his most desired one, reassured him a bit that he was indeed on the right course. Or perhaps there was not that much of bullshit in Hawkeye’s words when she told Ed that having him back on the team had visibly raised Mustang’s mood. 

Ed might seem oblivious at times, but he wasn’t stupid. As far as their bickering and arguments verging on fights went, Ed could see that Mustang enjoyed such distraction from his work and other worries as much as Ed did. 

Sure, the man was sometimes obnoxious. Sure, he was so full of himself, that Ed had to wonder how he managed to fit his head into the doorways. Sure, he had learnt almost each and every one of Ed’s buttons, and didn’t hesitate to push them at any given moment, driving Ed crazy, that Ed grew to even morbidly enjoy.

After all, Mustang was the only one who could get Ed from zero to one hundred in the span of a second, and Ed could appreciate talent when he saw one. 

Aside from a now tolerable Mustang, this new life had something else his previous lacked — routine. And everyone who knew Ed would agree that it was not something they might have imagined him to enjoy. And perhaps in a year or two he really would drop everything, grab his old red coat he didn’t get to wear too often these days, and fuck off on a train in an unidentified direction. 

But right now routine was a breath of fresh air. It was giving him a possibility to sit back and relax. His days were predetermined and boring and he enjoyed every single moment of them. 

In the mornings he would be late to work at random periods of time that he justified as providing Hawkeye with something to worry about aside from trying to make Mustang do his job. These late comings also served as a distraction for Mustang to waltz into the office twenty minutes late and disappear behind his door, before Hawkeye, busy with Ed, could get to say anything. 

The first few times it was completely coincidental, but quickly a silent agreement took place between him and Mustang and sometimes the two would bump into each other at the gates to the Central Command, both inconceivably late. Their eyes would meet, Mustang would smirk and would stop on his track suddenly extremely preoccupied with searching for something undoubtedly important in the inner pockets of his coat, Ed would throw him his best  _ You owe me _ look and would march ahead toward their office and the pissed off Hawkeye.

It wouldn’t be that long till Hawkeye would figure out their collusion, but until then it was a game both Ed and no doubt Mustang thoroughly enjoyed. 

Later in the afternoon Ed would collect the payment for his “favor” by walking into Mustang’s inner office and sprawling on the man’s couch where he would stare into nothing for about an hour or two with just occasional wiggle of his brows, that was meant to convey the  _ I dare you _ message, when he felt that Mustang was about to say something along the lines of  _ Don’t you have work to do, Edward.  _

Sometimes Ed would actually allow him that, only because hearing his name said with that deep voice was pleasantly resonating with the nerves in the Ed’s spine, sending a wave of warm tingles down Ed’s back. 

Because along with the opportunity to slack off from work, this position allowed Ed to stare at Mustang when the man was too preoccupied with paperwork to notice. Admittedly, it didn’t happen that often, as the man’s attention span seemed to shorten each time he was getting bored, and paperwork was rarely entertaining. 

Ed was aware of his crush on Mustang for years. It was a silly little thing, that had seemed more shocking when he was younger, but since then he had managed to accept it, and instead of fighting it, just let it be, as it had never actually gotten in his way. He had partially hoped that it would resolve itself during the two years he hadn’t seen the man, but here he was back in this office, and he didn’t want to lie to himself by not admitting that this crush was not at least partially responsible for his choice of job. 

Still, aside from him being quite surprised that something as mundane as a crush on his superior office had managed to survive for so long, Ed considered it not only harmless but quite entertaining as well ― it provided him with distraction during some of their arguments that happened as often as before. Mustang would try his best to provoke some unreasonable reaction from Ed, and while Ed was happy to give it to him, the way the part of his brain was busy admiring Mustang’s smirk and wondering how his lips would taste, was keeping him from either storming off or strangling the man with his bare hands. 

It was giving others, including Mustang, the impression, that Ed had outgrown his teenage rebellious phase, while letting Ed keep crushing on his superior officer without anyone getting a clue.

Basically, it was a win-win.

Until the dreams came.

First time it was innocent enough, and only after waking up and going through half of his morning routine he realised that this time his usual wet dream ― he was eighteen, a virgin and touch-starved, it was hardly surprising to have such dreams on a regular basis ― had shown him the face he could actually not only recognise but remember after waking up. It made him pause in the middle of his tiny kitchen, a pan with fried eggs slowly steaming in his hand. He stared at a wall in front of him with empty eyes, but then shook himself, shrugged and went on with his morning. 

It was hardly unexpected, he concluded. Seeing the man he had a crush on basically every day while having healthy libido could do this to anyone.

It was nothing, it didn’t change anything. Surely he wouldn’t let some wet dream get to his head and ruin his friendship with Mustang. Besides, one time could hardly count.

But then one dream became two, three, ten, until he realised that there wasn’t a single night in the past month when he didn’t dream about Mustang performing different sexual acts on a very willing Ed.

Thankfully, there were not that many details in such dreams that Ed was able to remember after waking up, and not having anything in particular that his mind could go back to during a day, was somehow saving him from getting all awkward or embarrassed around the man from his dreams. 

His crush just obtained a more sexual side of it, no big deal. Not that Ed had never fantasized about Mustang while jerking off.

He was eighteen, afterall. And a virgin. With high libido. And touch starved. You know, this stuff. And not his fault that Mustang was so disgustingly gorgeous and hot and Ed was so totally gay. 

So it was fine, and Ed wasn’t too bothered. 

And then one night his dream got just a bit more detailed, and he could not only see, but almost  _ feel _ Mustang on him,  _ in _ him, and it was the first time that Ed’s mind provided him with something more to fantasise about aside from simple handjobs and not so simple blowjobs. 

Somehow in this dream Ed knew he was sleeping and on a very verge of semi-consciousness he couldn’t feel guilty when he tried to prolong that dream just a bit longer. 

Mustang kissing him deeply, his hands on Ed’s thighs, slowly fucking into him…

The dream was slowly dissolving, Ed’s overexcited brain pushing him into wakefulness, and Ed was clinging to the remnants of the dream barely even noticing when it transformed into active fantasising. 

Ed wasn’t fully awake yet, just enough to move his hand down his body to his painfully hard dick, his mind gladly providing him with hazy fantasies. He reached with his other hand down between his legs, but his finger was too dry to push it inside and he just pressed it against his entrance in a weak simulation of what was happening now between his closed eyelids. 

There was so much wrongness in it and yet at the same time it felt right like any bizarre thing in dreams always did. 

He came with a hoarse moan, feeling suddenly sharp awareness of what was happening filling his head while his warm release was leaving his body. 

With the orgasm came painful clarity, all remains of sleep gone from his mind as if never there. He sat in his bad, feeling empty and for the first in the past few months realising that he might actually had a problem. 

**~**

It had been almost two weeks since that very vivid sexual dream, and Ed had been doing his best avoiding staying alone with Mustang and trying not to show that something had changed at the same time. He knew he was not really succeeding, and more than once had he caught questioning looks not only from Mustang but from the rest of the team. 

It was exhausting, really. He missed the days when he could slack off for an hour or two on the Mustang’s couch without getting hot all over just looking at the man. 

He was pissed at himself, at Mustang and at life in general, and apparently it was showing, because one evening Havoc approached him, wiggled his brows knowingly and tapped him on a shoulder with a smirk.

“We are going to a bar,” he said. “You should join, perhaps you will find something to raise your mood a bit, boss.” He winked and added, “Or someone.”

Ed rolled his eyes, but the thought of shifting the attention of his libido to another target had crossed his mind more than once. Afterall, he simply hadn’t had any experience with such things. Perhaps his mind had chosen to crush on Mustang simply because there was no one else in the focus of Ed’s everyday attention who was remotely what Ed would call “his type”. Perhaps, if Ed tried to meet new people, he would actually have a choice of who to crush on, and perhaps, what he thought he felt for Mustang now, would dissolve once he satisfied his hormones.

Because maybe Ed just needed to get laid and it would solve his problem. And he would be able to chill on Mustang’s couch again without trying to keep his dick from getting too excited at how Mustang would tap his fingers at the desk thoughtfully while reading a report, or how he would roll the top of his pen across his lower lip while staring blankly at the boring text, or how he would lean back in his chair once in a while and stretch the stiff muscles of his back with his eyes closed and with the satisfied moan, that sounded borderline lewd and went straight to Ed’s groin, perhaps…

Perhaps Ed just needed to go to that bar, find someone interested in him and attractive enough so that didn’t look like a pity fuck, let loose and get some of that fun that his body had been demanding of him for long enough that it had stopped being healthy.

**~**

It took Mustang about eight minutes since they all entered a bar to catch the attention of two ladies and he drifted off to them with a disgusting smug smile, that made Ed grit his teeth in what he tried to convince himself was not a jealousy. 

They settled around a table and ordered drinks, Ed clenched his hands together and stared at them, frowning. The drinks arrived and Havoc nudges him with his elbow.

“Hey, boss, check out that blondie over there, I think she likes you,” he said, not so subtly wiggling his brows in the direction of a table deeper in the bar.

The girl was indeed watching Ed. Head slightly tilted, easy smile, looking not straight at him but a bit from the side. Ed recognised this expression from many times he’d seen ladies similarly eyeing Mustang when the team would go for a drink or two after work. Despite the obviousness of such flirtatious stare that now Ed could see so clearly, he wouldn’t have noticed it if Havoc didn’t direct his attention to it. 

The girl was indeed pretty. Small gentle face, blond long hair framing it. But Ed’s gaze just brushed across her features carelessly and slid further where at the table behind a young man was looking at Ed with a clearly readable hunger in his eyes. He seemed to be around thirty, short dark hair, face that one could see hundreds on the streets each day — not particularly handsome, but not ugly either. Just a normal guy, who Ed would hardly even notice on a normal day. 

But right now he was shamelessly looking at Ed like he could devour him whole, and honestly it was something that Ed thought would be perfect to take his mind of certain someone who was flirting at the bar stand with the two nameless ladies. 

Ed moved his chair back and stood up. Havoc let out a sound of approval and encouragement. Ed walked toward where the guy was seated, passing the girl without sparing her a glance. He could almost feel the eyes of the team on him, probably confused ones, or maybe even judging, when he stopped at the man’s table and without asking for invitation lowered himself in the chair across. Ed wondered if Mustang was watching him too, and what he would be thinking if he was. But most likely the man was too preoccupied with his own company. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Ed said without giving it too much thought, despite that he saw a half full glass with some dark liquid in front of the guy. 

The guy smiled and pointed at the glass. 

“Already have one. Can I get  _ you  _ something?”

“Not here for that,” Ed answered shaking his head. Blood was beating loudly in his ears, his mind slightly hazy like after a bottle of beer. A small voice on the back of his head was whispering that he was making a mistake, that it was not what — who — he wanted. Some lady laughed loudly behind him and it sent a surge of anger through him. It was almost childish, what he was doing, the way he was reacting. Another reason for him to try and find any distraction from the way those feelings were eating at him. 

“What is it you are here for, then?” The man in front of him leaned forward on his elbows, watching Ed with a smile. 

“Stress release,” Ed answered flatly not even trying to seem nicer than he felt, the guy seemed to be completely ignoring his solemn look anyway, most likely satisfied enough that Ed was just here. “I saw the way you were looking at me. Still are, actually.”

The guy laughed and finished his drink in two gulps. He put the glass back on the table and stood up, offering Ed a hand. “Shall we?”

Ed rose to his feet, ignoring the hand, his stubborn gesture only earning him a smirk, and followed the guy to the exit. He was looking pointedly in front of him when passing his table, not willing to see the possible confusion and judgment in the eyes of his friends. 

The door to the bar closed behind his back with a soft clunk, cutting off the sounds inside. It was still warm outside, though much fresher than during the day. Ed’s “date” walked to the end of the building where the bar was located and rounded the corner. Ed followed, with painful clarity realising that he was going to have sex with a total stranger in the back of some dark alley in the middle of the city. The understanding of what he signed himself on made his mood make a full turn, and an unpleasant feeling of sudden and completely unexpected self-loathing settled in the pit of his stomach, making him feel almost sick. 

Aside from having too much experience with dealing with things out of the ordinary, he had close to no experience with something mundane. He had never dated anyone, that curious short kiss he shared with Winry didn’t even count, the only thing he learnt from it was a confirmation of his long-term suspicious of him not being normal in that way. Normal guys were dreaming of girls. Their delicate features, thin frames, soft breasts. Ed’s wet dreams ― one of the few normal things that he shared with the rest of male population ― consisted of toned muscles and flat chest, and now, more often that he found comfortable ― of dark blue eyes from under the short black hair and familiar deep voice. 

He had never been ashamed of having two ― now one ― artificial limbs. He was not ashamed of having to give up his alchemy for his brother. He wasn’t even that ashamed of not liking girls ― he was adaptable afterall, he wouldn’t come as far as he had, if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t survive for so long. But he was ashamed of the thoughts and mental images that recently were flooding his mind every time he saw his superior officer ― the man almost one and a half decade older than him. The man who was most likely still seeing Ed as just a grown up kid. And honestly, Ed couldn’t blame him.

Ed turned the corner into the alley and got instantly grabbed by the collar and shoved into the wall. Warm wet lips covered his, a leg pressed between his two, and he closed his eyes automatically. Wave after wave of alien signals flooded his senses. Unfamiliar smell of someone else’s skin, the taste of alcohol and faceless one of saliva, warm breath on the side of his face. It all felt wrong, almost unwelcome, but his body was reacting to another warm one pressed against him, the heat was pooling between his legs adding more pressure against the tight jeans he was wearing. He barely registered a low sound he made when his hips rolled involuntarily and the guy against him broke the kiss with a short laugh. Instantly wet lips started sucking on the side of Ed’s neck, a hand snuck between their bodies to press against his groin, and he let himself be lost in these sensations that perhaps not his mind but his body was welcoming. 

He didn’t even notice when the guy ― god, he didn’t even know his name! ― undid his fly and tugged Ed’s pants and underwear just low enough to wrap his hand around Ed’s dick. It was the first time when someone else touched Ed like that and he couldn’t help but moan low in his throat. The guy was kissing him again, his tongue ― long and intrusive ― mapping the inside of his mouth trying to reach deeper as if he attempted to fuck Ed’s throat with it. He grabbed Ed’s hand and brought it to his crotch. Ed could feel the hardness and heat of the other’s dick through the fabric of the pants, when he clumsily undid the button and pulled down the fly, shoving his hand in the guy’s underwear. 

The hot hard organ felt strange and alien in his fingers when he wrapped his hand around it. He tugged a few times and the guy moaned against his ear, speeding up the movements of his own hand.

“That’s it baby, like that. Good boy.”

Ed felt bile rise up in his throat and he squeezed his eyes tighter forcing his mind to shut down, just concentrating on the sensations. The guy was sucking on his neck again, breathing heavily, his hand too tight around Ed’s cock, almost painfully so. 

The thought of the other man arose in Ed’s mind almost naturally. And not for the first time Ed let himself wonder how  _ Roy’s _ hand would feel, what  _ Roy’s  _ kisses would be like. How he would feel against Ed and in his hand, what words would he says, what taste his lips would be against Ed’s…

The image ― fantasy ― so familiar after countless times Ed had let it visit him, made him shudder, and he came with a quiet whine. The nameless guy groaned against him ― in satisfaction or disappointment, Ed didn’t really care ― and tugged at Ed’s hand urging him to move it faster. In the post-orgasm clarity Ed was too aware of the stranger’s dick in his hand, on the way it was tensing and pulsing, ready to come, on the way this man was breathing wetly against the side of his neck. Ed sped up the movement of his hand, too eager to be out of here and under the closest stream of water he could find to wash away the traces of the stranger from his skin. 

The cock in his hand tensed one last time, the guy cursed under his breath and came, hot sticky come shooting between them, part of it undoubtedly ending up on Ed’s shirt and pants, the last of it sliding down Ed’s hand, cooling off quickly, lukewarm and disgusting. 

The guy stepped back with a satisfied smile and Ed let his hand fall to his side, noting absentmindedly that it felt to him now even more alien than when he was wearing an automail on its place. The guy tucked himself back in his pants, and winked.

“Thanks, gorgeous.” He gave Ed another once over and with a wave of his hand turned around and walked away silently. 

Ed stood there for a moment staring blankly at the opposite wall. A surge of wind made him painfully aware of his still opened pants and already cold drying come covering his softened dick. He winced, blinked away tears and hurriedly zipped up his jeans. Using just left hand was inconvenient, but he felt nauseous just thinking about touching any other part of himself with his dirty right one. The front of his shirt had a few milky drops on it and Ed fought the urge of just taking it off and leaving it here on the ground. 

He felt empty inside. Not the pleasant kind of empty he sometimes felt after jerking himself off in the shower, but dauntingly empty, as if all good and bright that remained in him was pulled out of his body with sticky dirty hands. He knew it wouldn’t last long. He knew he would recover and forget eventually, not letting something petty like this haunt him. But right now he felt disgusted with himself.

He rubbed his right hand against the wall trying to get rid of at least some of the substance on it. It didn’t bring much effect, as he could already feel the pull on his skin where the come had dried. 

He sighed and stepped from the wall, walking back to the bar and stopping once he reached the first window that provided good view at the floor. The table where he and the rest of the Mustang’s team had been sitting, now was occupied by some other company and Ed concluded his friends had already left.  

He walked to the door, entered the bar and headed to the bathroom, trying to keep his pace relaxed and steady despite little shakes his muscles were making. He let out a shuddered breath once he reached the bathroom door, shoving it open and stumbling inside impatiently. His head was bowed and he only noticed someone standing in front of the urinals from the corner of his eyes, not giving it too much thought, too eager to finally clean up at least partially, before he went back home and jumped under a hot shower. 

He turned the water on in one of the sinks and shoved his right hand under the stream, cursing under his breath as almost ice-cold water hit his skin. He grabbed a small soap from the side of the sink, almost dropping it, and started furiously rubbing his right hand with it. Water was not warming up and his skin was getting pink from cold. 

He saw the movement from the corner of his eyes, heard the tab at the sink next to him being opened with a rusty squick. His hair, partially freed from his braid by that guy’s eager hands, was falling on the sides of his face in a few strands,  that usually uncomfortable, now were letting Ed hide behind them. 

Water in the other sink cut off, Ed finally deemed his hand clean enough, and he leaned forward, pulling at his shirt and shoving the stained hem of it under the stream. 

“Is everything fine, Ed?”

The sudden voice on his right made him jump, his head jerked up and he felt his breath catch in his throat when he looked at the mirror in front of him and at the reflection of the man beside him. 

“The fuck are you doing here, Mustang?” His voice came out hoarse and shaky and he winced, looking down abruptly when he saw Mustang’s brows furrow in concern. Of course, of all people, it should be him Ed stumbled upon on his walk of shame. 

“I was about to leave, actually. Others already have.” Ed’s shirt, where the other guy’s come had gotten onto it, was already soaked enough to at least not see any evidence of it, and Ed pulled it back from the water stream not bothering that it now was dribbling on his pants. “Thought I saw you leave too.”

Ed couldn’t hold back a strangled sound that left his throat when he pulled his hair up in a messy ponytail, baring two dark hickeys on the side of his neck. He could see Mustang raising a brow in a silent question, but he ignored it, leaning down to the tab and opening his lips against the water letting it fill his mouth. He straightened up throwing his head back, rinsing his throat and mouth with water, spitting it back and then repeating the action two more times. 

He could see Mustang silently watching him, frowning, and Ed wondered absentmindedly what exactly served to the man’s displeasure. 

“Fuck, what are you keep staring at, Mustang, go the fuck home.” Ed was now rubbing his neck with the remainder of the soap piece, feeling almost on the verge of tears when the action did nothing to the dark bruises on his skin. Not that he believed it would, but realisation that he would have to wear this reminder of that stranger’s mouth on him for days almost made him sick. 

He was on a verge of hysteria, and the only thing that kept him from hating himself for this was the newness of the situation he was in ― he’d grown to love himself a bit more over the past couple of years, he’d learnt to cut himself some slack once in a while. Al had been so proud of these changes.

Surprisingly, the permission for self-pity Ed decided to give himself now, kept the hysteria in check.

Mustang suddenly stepped closer, his hand flying to Ed’s one, fingers wrapping around the wrist, stopping the hand’s movement and pulling it away from Ed’s neck. Ed tensed up and tried to pull his arm back, but Mustang was gently but firmly holding it in his grip, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the hickeys before darting to Ed’s face. 

The wave of shame washed over Ed, making him want to hide himself from these sharp gaze. 

“Ed, are you—“

“I’m fine!” Ed almost screamed in frustration yanking his hand back. He was fine with feeling sorry for himself for a bit, he knew he would get over it soon, but Mustang seeing him in such a state somehow was making it worse.

“You look anything but fine. If I didn’t know that you can stand for yourself I would think that you were assaulted,” Roy said quietly. There was a dangerous edge in his voice when he said this and his eyes were narrowed in what Ed had learnt was Mustang barely holding back his rage. 

“Well, like you said, I can stand for myself,” Ed mumbled dismissively, dropping the soap near the sink and reaching to the tab to cut the water off.

A hand lied down on his right shoulder and Ed looked up at Mustang’s reflection in the mirror.

“You know you can talk to me, E—“

“Why the fuck you care?!” Ed snapped suddenly, turning abruptly and shoving Mustang’s hand off. “And why are you even here?! Shouldn’t you be screwing one of those girls you were flirting with tonight, or maybe both of them, huh?!”

Mustang stepped back, his eyes narrowed for a moment and then his face relaxed back into one of his masks that didn’t let anything through them. He didn’t answer, just watched as Ed shoved his hands in his hair, letting it fall free on his shoulders, hopefully hiding the hickeys on his neck. 

Ed threw another glance at Mustang and sharp regret settled deep in his bones. There was so much he was regretting at that moment and tonight’s encounter in the back alley was almost the least meaningful of it.

Mustang was watching him with sharp attentiveness in his dark blue eyes, his face expressionless and for some reason it was pissing Ed off even more than that borderline pity that he’d seen in the man’s eyes a few moments ago.

Ed hung his head and turned around, reaching for the doorknob and almost hoping for Mustang to stop him, to ask him again of what was wrong and perhaps then Ed would be able to open up and be honest — with him and with himself. 

But nothing followed, the door opened with a soft creak and then closed behind Ed’s back. He crossed the warmly lit floor of the bar and walked to the darkness of the night outside. 

He didn’t turn on the light in his tiny apartment when he finally reached it some time later, navigating to the shower by touch, memory and dim light from street lamps coming through half closed curtains. He washed himself under hot water bearing on scalding, hissing in pain and self disgust when it was hitting the most sensitive parts of his body. 

He didn’t bother putting anything on, diving under the blanket naked, cool touch of the fabrik welcomed by his overheated skin. 

He fell asleep wishing not to see any dreams at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> I plan for mb 3 chapters, but who knows. I abandon like 1/3 of my fics, so I dunno whether this one would be a lucky one or not xD


End file.
